Posted 8 hours ago

Sleep

Oh
How we
Dwell on you

Posted 8 hours ago
Posted 8 hours ago
Rhythm must have meaning.
Ezra Pound (via observando)
Posted 1 day ago

spockisgaypassiton:

to anyone having a bad day im so sorry also here are some pictures of baby elephants 

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feel better friend

Posted 1 day ago
  1. me: this book destroyed my life
  2. me: *add to the favorite books list*
Posted 3 days ago

asylum-art:

Destroyed Paintings by César Biojo

Cesar Biojo paints beautiful women’s portraits which particularity is the fact that he destroys his paintings after it’s done by a brush’s stroke. His oil paintings are between creation and destruction.

Posted 4 days ago

Skip this it was written under the influence, on an iPod

It’s been half a week since I bought a pack of cigarettes. Have I completely quit smoking? No. Have I been smoking less? Yes!

Have I felt better? Not entirely. My heart can still not resist the urge to be embodied by their smog. Hurt people, hurt people. I know my weakness lies in my ability for retaliation. I know it. It shows in the most d’être mental of time shifts; shifting to shit each time.

We are cleansing though, though when I awoke from a nap earlier I was entrapped again by the bell jar. The darkness, the shade, dark thoughts that curse & degrade. The food I had always eaten up until a few weeks ago, until earlier last night had probably made me feel like shit. I don’t really doubt it.

Luckily i had been exploring meditation on and off for a few years, and recently tried to re-tune myself to it. So I collected the smokey quartz and amethyst I had cleansed and programmed earlier, walked out the front door and went on a search in the fog for quiet isolation.

Quietness isn’t easy to find in the heart of hampton though. Not as many cars are on the smooth concrete at night. The board glides like butter. Cruising for the least populated part of the parking lots and descend to the tide from there.

I was able to soothe my headache before the sound of fire works shattered the aura of silence. That was fine, felt cold anyway. I then dipped the smokey quart into the breaking wave to “cleanse” those deep seeded nicotine desires.

I headed off the sand and as I was putting my socks and shoes back on, a police officer slowly crept along, the odd-ficer looked at me and I smiled and waved. He just looked away and drove off. I was immensely relieved he wasn’t in a bad mood, because there is, unfortunately, a skating prohibition on the strip.

I got on the board and shot straight for nowhere. Just the sensation of the smooth vacant road, the sight of the last of the bar attendees searching for their cars or going back to their motels. I passed a pair that were well in the midst of some emotional whatever.

"Can I just tell you something before I never see you again?" I heard the man say.

As I passed, I met my eyes with the women’s for a second. I looked back at them and they were embracing.

Soon I turned the corner and found a pack of cigarettes on the ground, that had been run over. I scraped to a stop and process to inspect. One still good.

I fitted it into my mouth and lit a match.
I crossed paths with the odd-ficer again. I felt cold, but it didn’t bother me. I threw the squashed pack away into someone’s can and headed home.

I thought I was alone when I quietly crept along the road to my house when suddenly a guy, also on a longboard, riding low enough to be sitting, rolled next to me, using his hands to accelerate.

"Oh hello." I said. He stared at me in confusion.

"You’re not my friend. Sorry." Was his slow response. And he turned left as I went right.

When I finally got home, I read some poems I had written and some drawing I had done, and decided they weren’t ready to share. So I decided to write a blog post to keep my mind off smoking. I’m just realizing how long I’ve been working on this. Now I have to get ready for work, but I don’t feel the need to smoke at the moment, and haven’t smoked since 4:20. I’m hopping to go three consecutive days without one, but I’ll probably cave. X_x

Anyway, you beautiful person that you are, have a great day.

Posted 4 days ago

real-hiphophead:

"Life is only a dream and we are the imagination of ourselves …"

Posted 4 days ago
I’m glad mushrooms are against the law, because I took them one time, and you know what happened to me? I laid in a field of green grass for four hours going, “My God! I love everything.” Yeah, now if that isn’t a hazard to our country … how are we gonna justify arms dealing when we realize that we’re all one?
Bill Hicks (via hamburg-digga)
Posted 4 days ago
That’s why I always recommend a psychedelic experience because it makes you realize that all you’ve learned is in fact just learned and not necessarily the truth.